


Raise Your Glass

by castiellations



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiellations/pseuds/castiellations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, Dean."</p>
<p>"Hey, Kevin." Honestly Dean isn't really surprised anymore that his dead friends keep showing up to remind him of what a failure he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raise Your Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is my very first fic posted, seeing as that I have no idea how to work this website. But here's some good old-fashioned Dean hurt, because it's what I do best. Let me know what you think of it though.

"What're you doin', boy?" Dean jerks his head up from where it's been resting on the bar for at least half an hour, drunk and confused. He could have sworn that he heard-

"Over here, ya idjit." Dean turns his head so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. Sitting next to him, looking alive (and pissed) is the one and only Bobby Singer, who in reality has been dead for over 6 years.

"What." Dean's thought process is slow to say the least, alcohol clouding his judgement and just about everything else.

"Do you have cotton in your ears? I asked you what in the hell do you think you're doing?" Dumbstruck, all Dean can do is stare, taking in Bobby's worn baseball cap and wondering how this is even possible. They had burnt everything of Bobby's, from the flask to his clothes, everything was gone. So why-?

"Speak, boy. I ain't got all day." Brought back into the present, Dean can't think of a decent answer.

"Balls. I'll tell ya what you're doing. You're wasting away, when there's a world out there that needs your savin'. Sam's worried sick, and so is Cas. They want to help your sorry ass, but you just keep pushing them away, when they're all you got. You listenin' to me?"

Still woozy and unfocused, Dean's filter is shot, and he doesn't know or frankly care if this is the real Bobby, but either way he has no right to be meddling in his private life. What he chooses to do to his liver is his own business, thank you very much. "Look, I don't know if you're my mind playing tricks on me, or if you decided to pay me a visit from the heavens above, but stay out of it. I've heard the same shit from the other two, I don't need your spiritual ass repeating it another time." What can he say, Dean Winchester was not only a piece of shit, but he also treated the dead with zero respect. What a keeper.

"Some things never change. Listen, I'm not here to coddle you or nothin', but I thought I would give it a shot. Turns out you need more help than my visiting hours allow." Bobby's eyes soften. "I don't like seeing you like this, boy. You've got people that want to help, let 'em in." With a final pat on the shoulder, Bobby disappears.

Dean orders another shot.

\--

"I can't believe you! Dean Winchester, I did not die for this!" It's been a month since Bobby visited, and Dean is in the same situation, just a different bar, surrounded by different people. Drunk off his ass and wallowing in self-hatred.

Just as shocked as the last time, Dean turns to see fiery red hair and pale skin. "Charlie?" Emotions are starting to claw at his chest but no, emotions are what got him here in the first place, so he pushes them down. She's scowling at him anyways, so he's already feeling his defensive walls go up, almost on reflex.

"It sure is, you asshole. And you're about to get firmly scolded, so you might wanna take a seat." He's already sitting, but it doesn't matter, there's no point in interrupting her. He can see that she's building up her anger, so all he's gotta do is ride it out and wait for the worst of it to be over.

She seems a little taken aback at his lack of response, but quickly recovers. Dean's drunken mind applauds her. "I heard from Bobby that you're getting bad, and I just had to come see for myself. He sounded sincere and worried and I thought to myself, "Charlie, you gave your life for this man, you better make sure he isn't wasting it." And sure enough, I come down here and bam! You're on a crappy bar stool, in a crappy bar, drinking crappy liquor. You son of a bitch."

Dean has the dignity to feel ashamed, if only for a short second.

"See, you've probably had a drinking problem since you were 6, but-"

"13, actually." Remorse? Out the window. There's only one way Dean knows how to get himself out of a corner, and it's by extreme sarcasm and nonchalance.. even if he wasn't lying just then. Charlie'll probably leave him alone and he can go to sleep again. That's all he wants, really. Some goddamn sleep.

"You're fucking with me, right?" Charlie looks incredulous, and he doesn't know if it's because of his young alcoholism, or because that's all he had to contribute to her rant. Probably both.

"Man, you have gone off the deep end." She looks sad, and Dean's heart longs to pull her in for a hug, and assure her that he's okay, even if he's not.

Her figure starts to waver. "Ah shit, you know I'm only allowed so much time down here, and I had hoped that I could get through to you, but it's gonna take more than an hour." She puts her hand on his jaw, and he unconsciously leans into the touch. "I miss you, Dean, but I don't want to see you up here until it's your time, alright? Let Sam and Cas in. And-" She waits until he's looking in her eyes, and she doesn't mention that his are a little glassier than normal, whether it be from alcohol or tears, Dean doesn't even know. "It wasn't your fault. I wanted to help you, and if I died in the process? So be it. I'd do it again." Her eyes grow fond. "Plus I see my parents on the regular, so it's really not bad at all." She gives him a small smile, and then she's gone.

Dean doesn't order another shot, and he tries his best to ignore his tears falling onto the counter.

\--

"Hey, Dean."

"Hey, Kevin." Honestly Dean isn't really surprised anymore that his dead friends keep showing up to remind him of what a failure he is. It is what it is, and what it is is torture, which he so rightfully deserves.

"Do you think you could get me a drink or something? They have a strict alcohol intolerance in Heaven, and I just want a little buzz." A flash of pain hits Dean's chest. Kevin hadn't started drinking until just a few months before he died. He died before he could truly experience what life had to offer, and yet Dean is still breathing? Doesn't make much sense. But he waves his hand and the bartender appears with two shots, placing one in front of each of them.

Kevin downs it and makes a face, which almost makes Dean smile. He probably would have if he were just a bit more drunk, but Kevin caught him early, before he could really get into it.

They sit in silence for a while, and it feels real. Dean doesn't feel pressured to pour his heart out, and Kevin doesn't seem to expect him to. Maybe that's why he does. Or at least let's down his walls for a little bit.

"I've fucked up, haven't I." It's not really a question, because he knows that it's true, but he has to say it, has to let Kevin know that he is sorry, even if it's a shitty way to phrase it.

"Yeah, you have." Kevin nods, and Dean is shocked. He had been expecting some sort of resistance, because isn't that what he's here for? Convince Dean that he's doing alright, that he needs to step up and stop destroying whatever is left of himself?

But, it's freeing. Hearing someone acknowledge his burdens, acknowledge that he's done something (everything) wrong, instead of trying to bury it deep down where no one will have to deal with it.

Kevin knocks back two more shots while they sit there, the silence comfortable and open. Dean doesn't even notice when Kevin leaves, it's quiet and neither of them says a word.

Dean orders a water, for once wanting to clear his head.

\--

"Hey, honey." Nonononono Dean can't deal with this. He really doesn't have the energy to fight back on this one. He closes his eyes and wills his mom to go away, for the first time ever. He feels slender hands on his back, rubbing soothing circles into the tension built up there, and wants so badly to give in. But he doesn't deserve his mother's love, he doesn't deserve her talking him down from his drunken ways.

"Dean, c'mon baby, I don't have very much time, and I think you need to hear what I have to say." But Mary Winchester raised a stubborn son, and Dean is determined to keep his head down and throw a silent temper tantrum, away from his mother's loving eyes.

"Okay, I'll just have to trust that you'll listen." She pauses, as if hoping that he'll look up, but he keeps his head firmly buried in his arms. "Surely you know that your father and I have been keeping an eye on you, and so have many others that you and Sam lost. People care about you, and word is starting to go around that the righteous man is losing his soul. Baby, that makes you vulnerable. You have lots of enemies, Dean, and they're gonna start coming after you if you keep this up."

Dean's heart shatters more with every word he hears, maybe not because of the depth of them, but because it's his mom talking.

"Let them come." The hand on Dean's back stills, and he can almost feel her sadness.

"Dean, look at me." Her voice is hardened with resolve, but he can still sense the shakiness that means that she's scared. Dean slowly raises his head, not really wanting to start up a fight.

Her eyes are so sad, and Dean wants to gather her up in a hug and never let go. "Dean, I know that you think you've lost it all. And you have lost a lot, but you still have Sam, and that angel that is so loyal to you. They're beating themselves up over this, they care so much about you. I know you think it's over, but it's not. You have to fight until you feel again. Giving in only means that the dark side wins."

"If the dark side wins, I'm gone and I stop causing people pain, mom. It's a nasty cycle where Sam will do anything for me and vice versa, but all it ever seems to do is hurt people. If I'm gone, Sam can live on, and the world will stop ending! People will stop dying."

She grips his shirt with white knuckles. "Don't you say that. You have saved the world on more than one occasion, haven't you realized the impact you've had? You and Sam have saved more people than you've harmed, and your love for each other is what makes that possible in the first place." Her eyes are desperate, and it's the most panicked he's ever seen her. He doesn't understand. If he dies, he'll just be reunited with her, wouldn't that be a good thing?

"We saved the world because we broke it in the first place." He feels drained, all of a sudden, and all he wants to do is lay his head down and pass out.

"You have done this world so much good, why can't you see that? I want you to reap the rewards. I know you want to settle down, make a life with Castiel, I've seen it. And he wants it too, so badly. You have done more than your share of saving, it's time to let yourself have something for once." And that strikes a cord. Because Dean does want it. At one point, that's what kept him going, his hope for the two of them.

But then it wasn't enough anymore. Don't get him wrong, he still loves Cas with all that he's got, but his insecurities got in the way, as they always do. He knew that he wasn't good enough for Cas, who was selfless, strong, and kind. He knew that Cas would give up on him eventually, and he didn't want to weigh him down.

Dean can see his mom starting to waver, just like the others. It saves him from having to answer, but also sends a tidal wave of sadness through him. No matter how much he's fighting her right now, he doesn't want her to leave him. He never did.

Mary places a kiss on his cheek, smiling sadly. "Know that I'll always be watching over you, Dean." And then she's gone.

Dean puts his head down and tries to calm his raging emotions.

\--

"Dean." For a moment, Dean's heartbeat skyrockets, because the only visitors he's gotten at the bar in the last 6 months have all been dead, and yet, Castiel is standing right next to him. He just went on a hunt with the angel a couple of days ago (or weeks? He's not really sure) and when he left, he was in good shape.

"Please tell me that you're alright, and not.." He can't finish his sentence. If Cas did happen to be dead, it would be over for Dean. He's lost too much, and if the angel standing in front of him was on some god forsaken 'Save Dean from himself' mission from Heaven, Dean would go off the edge of the cliff he'd been teetering on for ages.

Castiel gives him a calculating look, before his eyes soften and fill with sorrow. His shoulders sag, as if some heavy burden has been placed on top of them, and his mouth twists with some imaginary pain. "I'm fine, Dean. But you're obviously not. You saw someone, didn't you?"

Shocked, Dean's mouth falls open slightly. "Four, actually. How did you know?"

Cas scrubs a hand down his face, sighing deeply. "Dean, the connections you make with people are stronger than what other humans are capable of. Your love and compassion carries with each person you care about, even through death. I've heard of it before, where individuals are able to break out of Heaven for a limited amount of time to help their struggling loved ones back on Earth, but it's extremely rare. Even more so in your case, considering that you had four people make it down here." Dean doesn't know what to do with this, because yeah, when he cares about someone, he gives it his all, but he didn't think it was reciprocated. He didn't think that someone would sneak out of Heaven for him. "I always had a suspicion that it would happen to you, but I was so afraid that they would end up hurting you with good intentions. They tend to appear more often when the person they want to help is at a low point in their lives, and right now, you're at your lowest. It really shouldn't have been such a surprise to me, I should have taken care of it sooner."

And Cas looks so upset with himself, that Dean wants to reassure him over and over that none of this is his fault. But he's drunk, and still a little shocked, so that's not what comes out of his mouth.

"What're you doing here, Cas?" What does end up spilling out of his dumb, stupid mouth is a short, insensitive question, because he's drunk, and he'll keep blaming all of his mistakes on the alcohol.

The only physical reaction from the angel is a slight downturn of his mouth, and his eyes clouding over just a bit. "Dean, I'm here to take you home." He pauses and clears his throat. "I know that you don't want my help," Cas looks down for a moment. "But I can't watch you do this to yourself anymore. If you don't want me to help after we get out of here, that's fine, Sam is more than willing, and so are many others. But until then, you're my responsibility, and I'm not leaving this bar without you." The angel's features are steely, but Dean knows him well enough to know that he's hiding his fear. Fear that Dean will refuse to accept the hand held out to him.

And every bone in Dean's body is screaming at him to push him away, because he doesn't deserve Cas' acceptance and care. He's done terrible things, and it's better to hurt himself than to eventually hurt Cas in a way that can't be fixed. 

But then he thinks about Bobby, and Charlie, Kevin, and his mom. They all wanted him to keep fighting, wanted him to seek help from the people who loved him, wanted him to live. 

And maybe it was their words, or maybe it was just the gesture itself, but each visitor that he got managed to plant something in his head. Hope is too strong of a word for where he's at, but he's thinking that those four people gave him a piece of himself back, if only just a spark. 

But it's enough. Enough for Dean to clap a shaky hand onto Cas' shoulder and lift himself off of the barstool, swaying slightly. 

It's enough for him to nod when Cas gives him the tiniest of smiles. 

And it's enough for him to get up and walk out of that bar, with his angel by his side. 

Dean sure as hell doesn't know what's going to come next, and he knows that the road ahead is going to be rough and shitty at times, but when he looks over at Cas? 

He wants to work for it.


End file.
